anywhere out of the world
by elyteracy
Summary: There were two boys. They fall in hate more than in love. Then, there is the incident. They learn to live without the other. (modern au)
**Title comes from the Baudelaire poem of the same name**

 **the beginning is in a mildly known french city called Hossegor, where the World Female Championships of Surf happened two years ago. it was cool**

* * *

For as long as he remembers, there has always been him, and the sea.

His oldest memory is the way the sea sparkles like millions of gems under the sun rays, the smell of salt in the air, the cool touch of the water against his feet and the lull of the waves.

At three, his world contains the soft laugh of his mother, the amused look in his father's eyes and the way the sea foam feels licking at his feet.

* * *

Then, came Mikasa and Armin. His first memories of them are the defiant look in Mikasa's eyes when she starts to enjoy something and the way Armin's eyes light up when he can read a sentence of the book by himself.

At six, his world has grown a little, and the warmth of his two friends against him when he wakes up in the morning is part of it.

* * *

Others come and go, but they are not as important.

The important one is Jean.

Jean introduces to his world the bitter taste of blood as they fight on the beach. He had been staring a bit too much at Mikasa. Eren may be slightly overprotective.

At eleven, Jean crashes into his world, and doesn't leave.

* * *

He is twelve when he realizes that the sea he sees every day is not the only one. He takes conscience of how small his world is.

* * *

At thirteen, Eren surfs every day. On the days he can't, he gets restless and stares at the window as if he could spot the sea between two houses. He has no problem waking up at six, just when the sun peeks out at the horizon, grabbing his board and running to the beach.

Jean calls him crazy.

Eren usually finds him sitting on the wall at the beginning of the beach, his feet hanging from the edge, his skateboard next to him, eating an ice cream. The blond sneers at him something like: "Looking like a wet dog today, Jaeger."

If the waves were nice on this day, and he's in a good mood, he'll ignore his jab and sit next to him, stealing the rest of his ice cream. Jean complains a bit but he always lets him have it.

If he isn't feeling good, at best he'll just ignore him and goes back home. At worst they'll fight and have to patch up each other. They don't want to get back home once again with bloody knuckles and scraped knees and get scolded by their mothers.

They move to one of the public bathrooms around the beach. Eren scrunches his nose at the dirtiness. He takes out bandages and antiseptic from his bag. It's not unusual to cut yourself during surf. He dabs at the cut on Jean's cheekbone. The blond winces.

"Stop being such a baby."

"Fuck you."

Eren doesn't pay attention and just hums as he sticks the bandage on the scrap. "Done." He goes to pack things up, but Jean stops him with a hand around his wrist. "What?"

"And you?" Jean asks.

"I don't need it."

The blond huffs. "Don't be a fucking idiot."

He grabs Eren's hand and cleans the blood from his knuckles. With a smirk, he pulls out colorful bandages from the box and wraps them where needed. Eren scowls but doesn't protest.

Jean, then, grabs the brunet's face. He has a nasty cut on the lip. Eren flinches but Jean is surprisingly gentle as he cleans it.

They are just reaching adolescence, and Eren learns Jean's have long elegant fingers are sometimes almost tender.

* * *

Eren's fifteen and his eyes linger on women's legs as much as they do on men's broad backs. He wonders if maybe he is gay, but he does find girls attractive.

He could ask Mikasa and Armin, but they are both family. What if they don't accept him?

He needs someone blunt. Someone who doesn't care. Someone like Jean, he realizes, while staring at the ceiling one evening. He checks the time. It's eleven. He grabs his shoes, stumbles down the stairs. His father is still working at the kitchen table.

"Where are you going at this time?"

"Jean," he says.

His father frowns a bit. "Be back by one."

He smiles, grateful. "Thanks, Dad."

Jean scowls hard when he knocks at his window.

"What are you doing here?"

"I needed to talk."

Jean sighs and opens his window wider. Eren climbs inside, ditches his shoes on the floor, and flops on Jean's bed. Jean lies on the bed, looks at Eren from upside down.

"You could have asked Mikasa or Armin."

Eren shakes his head. "Nah, it had to be you."

The blond's heart skips a beat. He frowns. That's an odd feeling. Eren watches him with this intense look in his eyes, the one he gets sometimes when he's fired up and it makes Jean feel a bit weird.

"I think I like guys."

He blinks. This was not what he expected. "You _think_?"

Eren frowns a bit. "Well, I find guys attractive."

Jean sighs and sits up. "You know there's the internet for that." Eren glares at him.

"I know, I'm not stupid." Jean snorts at that. The brunet kicks him. "It's just..." He trails off, fidgeting. He casts his gaze downwards. "It's all strangers on the internet and I wanted to speak to someone... familiar." He finishes, grimacing, unhappy with his words.

Jean runs a hand through his hair. Eren is biting his lips, looking lost and confused. He struggles against himself for a few second, but when the brunet looks up, twisting his hands, he knows he's lost.

"Look, you've kissed a girl, right?" Eren nods. Once, she used to live here. She'd left a couple years back. "And you liked it?" Another nod. "Well, just try to kiss a guy to see how it feels, and you can decide after."

Eren stares at him. Jean frowns. Eren stares some more. He raises an eyebrow. "You are a guy," says Eren.

He opens his mouth. Stays speechless. He gapes. "No. Absolutely not. I'm not kissing you, Jaeger."

The brunet pouts. "Why not?"

"No."

Eren crawls towards him, puts his hands on his knees, invading his personal space. Their faces are close. He can see the nuances of green and blue in his irises. "Please, Jean," Eren pleads.

Jean raises his hands, puts them on his shoulders. The boy is warm, and his shoulders are firm. He can't help but follow the line of his throat. He gives a tiny nod.

Eren beams. Jean gulps. The brunet gently raises a hand, and tangles his fingers in Jean's hair. He leans forward. The pressure of his lips against Jean's is short, barely noticeable.

Jean opens his eyes. They are really close to each other. Eren looks at him. His eyes are huge, and so vivid. "You call that a kiss?" Jean sneers.

Eren scowls. "You are the one who didn't want to kiss me."

Jean loops his arms around Eren's neck. "Just fucking kiss me, dumbass."

It's messy and uncomfortable at first. Their noses bump into each other. Eren is still leaning on his knees. It hurts. Jean frowns, and cradles Eren's face in his hands, tilting his head to the side. It's already much better and the brunet makes a pleased noise at the back of his throat. He straightens up on his knees, and Jean chases his mouth with his own. Eren slides in his lap and his breath hitches. He weaves his arms around his waist, swipes his tongue against Eren's lips. He presses his hands to his back, feeling the strong muscles move under the skin. Hands pull at his hair and he moans softly. Eren bites him.

"Ouch," he complains.

They pull apart, panting. Their breaths mingle in the narrow space between them. It takes them a couple of seconds to process what just happened.

Eren's eyes widen in horror. He scrambles out of Jean's lap to the other side the bed. They gawk at each other for a few more seconds.

Eren jumps out of the window. They haven't said another word. Jean drops his head in his hands.

At fifteen, Eren is not the only one to question his sexuality.

They never talk about this kiss again.

* * *

Sixteen comes and they spend a lot more time with each other. They don't fight less. But Mikasa and Armin are not really the type to go out and Jean is. So they make a compromise.

Eren shows up at Jean's house around seven. He greets Jean's mother with a smile. "Jean's in his room," she tells him. He can tell, he can hear the music.

It is so loud and Jean doesn't hear Eren come in. He jumps when the brunet touches his shoulder. Eren laughs at him, and Jean glares.

They shove each other on the way to the beach. They stop at the convenience store for beer. The cashier barely looks at them. Probably judges that he's not paid enough to deal with underage kids wanting to get drunk.

Eren smiles when they reach the beach. He always gets a bit happier when he sees the ocean. There's a crowd of teenagers around a bonfire. They mingle, chatter, flirt and get tipsy. Eren doesn't scowl and giggles a lot. Jean can't help but steal glances.

Later, he gets his shirt off. His shoulders are broader than they used too. Jean may stare a bit. "What are you doing, idiot."

Eren looks at him. The fire is reflected in his eyes. You'd think they would seem smaller as Eren grew up. They are still stupidly huge. "I'm going in the water. What else?"

"Careful," Jean utters before he can stop himself. Eren blinks owlishly. "I mean, I don't wanna have to pull your fucking drowned body out of the sea."

Eren huffs. "Don't worry, not happening."

Eren jumps in the water. It seems warmer because of the freshness of the night. He lets himself float on his back, staring at the stars. The waves lull him and his eyes flutter. A splash on his left makes him turn his head.

Jean's swimming toward him.

"Thought you'd stay on the beach."

The blond scowls. "I didn't come for you. I just wanted to get away from this chick who came onto me too strong."

Eren snorts. "Dude, thought you'd be happy to have a girl interested in you."

Jean glowers at him and doesn't answer.

Eren swims and surprises him by hooking his legs around his waist, and his arms around his neck.

"What the fuck do you think you are doing, Jaeger."

He doesn't pry him off, though. He must admit that Eren's warmth against his back is nice with how the night is getting colder. And at least now, he isn't actively trying to piss Jean off.

"You've ever thought about going on the other side of the ocean?" Eren asks in a quiet voice.

Jean shakes his head. It makes Eren's hair tickle his chin. "Not really. It's just America. I can always check it out on the internet."

The brunet hums. He can feel the vibration of his chest against his back.

They get back to Eren's place because it's closer. They are too lazy to pump the air mattress and they both collapse on Eren's double bed. They wake up with Jean on his back and Eren sprawled sideway on the bed, his head on Jean's stomach.

At sixteen Jean starts to realize Eren will not always be next to him.

* * *

At seventeen, they've mellowed out a bit. Their fights are more sparse. Eren thinks it's because of the odd air that hangs between them sometimes, in the narrow space between their faces.

They watch as tourists pack up their things. Their shoulders are pressed against each other. Jean is playing on his phone.

"I wish I could just leave."

Jean shoots him a look. "Why?" He asks.

Eren scowls. "Because we are stuck." There are anger and frustration in his voice, determination in his eyes. "It's a small summer town. We live off tourists' money. It's dead during winter. It rains a lot. There's only three schools and only one is a high school. If I stay, I'll go the university twenty minutes from here. Probably meet a nice boy or girl or whatever, live with my parents until I move in with them. Lend a boring desk job and stay in this shit town for the rest of my life."

Jean doesn't think it sounds so terrible. "And Armin and Mikasa?" He asks instead without meeting his eyes.

"There's nothing for me here." Eren's voice is clear, hard, the words unforgiving.

It's like a stone falling in Jean's stomach. "There's your family. Your friends. Me." He adds, his hands balled into fists.

Eren sends him a withering look. "You know I didn't mean it like that."

Jean stands up, his hands balled into fists. "Well, it damn well sounded like it."

"Jean-"

"No." He cuts him off. He has known, for long, that he shouldn't take Eren for granted. But it still hurt, and Jean swallows around the stone in his throat. "How can you just- Just decide to leave all of us, like that. Is it really so bad here? Is it-" His voice cracks. "Are we- Am I even your friend?"

"Of course you are, Jean!" Eren grabs his shoulders, his eyes very green and wild-looking.

Jean sneers. "Aren't I jut a replacement for when Mikasa and Armin are not free? Do you think I wouldn't notice?"

"NO!" Eren cries out and he thumps Jean's chest. "You are not a replacement."

The blond laugh, void of humor, self-depreciative. "What am I, then? A distraction? A jo-"

He cuts off when Eren grabs his collar and yanks him down.

Their noses collide, Jean tenses against Eren's mouth because Eren is kissing him what is happening-

But he's angry and sad and he's been wanting to kiss Eren for months. He tilts his head, pulls at brown strands. It's hard, all teeth and tongue, and the bitter taste of blood fills his mouth. He groans, and Eren bites his lip.

"You are not a distraction," Eren repeats, after, in the space between their mouths.

Jean thinks it's even worse now. To know that although he's _this_ to Eren – whatever this is – the boy will leave. Because Jean has no doubts about it. It's only a matter of time.

* * *

As they reach eighteen, most of their fights end up in sex. Rough and biting against the wall, on the couch, on any surface available. They pant in each other mouth, leave bloody scratches and purple marks, imprint of their fingers on hips.

Jean knows the sounds Eren makes when he's being pinned to the floor, flushed and on the edge of his climax. He knows what he looks like when he's aroused, the way his eyes turn dark, how he licks his lips and looks at Jean from under his lashes when he's trying to drive him crazy. He knows how fit Eren is, how he can lift Jean easily, how his smile is almost feral when he plans to take control.

Jean doesn't mind knowing all of this. It's only superficial. It's just sex.

But he hates that he also knows the little things. He hates that he knows Eren scrunches his nose when he doesn't like something. He hates how he wants to smooth the creases between his eyebrows when he's frowning. He hates how cute he finds the way Eren pouts. He hates that he knows how Eren takes his coffee, that he doesn't like to sleep with a shirt on, that he prefers spicy food to sweet food, that when he's tired he becomes affectionate, that he likes to be in Jean's presence but he's not really the cuddly type.

He hates Eren for making him want to say "I love you" even though the words stay stuck in his throat every time.

He's eighteen, he falls in hate more than in love and time hasn't stopped for anyone.

* * *

The incident happens when they are nineteen. Jean thought it would happen earlier, to be honest.

It is late. Midnight has come and gone again. He doesn't even now why he is still awake. After, when he thinks back about this night, maybe he had known it would happen. Maybe that was why he was still awake. He has turned off the lights in his room a couple hours ago. The only source of light in the room is the dim one coming from the screen of his phone.

He jumps in surprise when he hears a knock on his window. He grips his phone in his hand, and slides out of bed. It is too dark and he can't see what on the other side of the glass. With hesitation, he reaches for the switch.

Eren.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" He asks.

It's not uncommon for him to come in the middle of the night, but he usually texts beforehand. Now, he is fidgeting and his smile looks strained. There's something serious in his eyes that doesn't reassure Jean.

"I'm leaving," Eren declares. Jean doesn't say anything. He doesn't trust his own mouth to not blurt something stupid. He grips the edge of the window hard. His knuckles turn white. He wants to tell Eren to knock it off, that it's crazy, but after all these years, he knows it would be useless. Eren's a stubborn bastard.

The brunet is fidgeting. "Won't you say anything?"

"No. You are going to leave anyway."

Eren looks guilty for a moment, his gaze down. He looks up to Jean, his eyes almost emerald in the darkness. He kisses him. Short and sweet, two hands cradling his jaw. "I love you," he hears whispered. It's the first time Eren's said it. It's the first time any of them has said it.

His laugh is bitter and he can feel the tears at the corner of his eyes. "You're a cruel fucker." He angrily wipes his cheeks. "Why are you telling me that now, just before fucking leaving me here!?"

"Come with me!" Eren exclaims. "Come with me, Jean." He's pleading, his hand gripping Jean's wrist. He doesn't want to let Jean go. He wants to press fluttery kisses all over his face and make the tears disappear with his lips. He wants to see the world with Jean by his side.

"I'm sorry, Eren, I can't." A stone drops in his stomach. Jean just wants to curl up in his bed and sleep until everything looks like a bad dream. "You can maybe leave everything behind but I- I can't. My life is in this city. My parents, my friends. Everything." He sobs. "Everything but you."

Eren makes a choking noise. "I'll go crazy if I stay." He's crying too, now. His heart aches in his chest. He smoothes his thumb along Jean's cheek. The kiss is barely a brush of lips, flitting and bittersweet. "Goodbye, Jean."

"Goodbye, Eren."

And this night, while one blasts music in his car ignoring the hurt in his chest, the other cries himself to sleep, his blankets around him.

* * *

Jean likes college. It's social enough that he doesn't have to go far to find entertainment, and private enough that if he wants to be alone, he can.

And he has enough work that he doesn't have to think about Eren. He kept all of their conversations on his phone. Sometimes, in the dead of the night, he goes over their texts. The number doesn't work anymore. His fingers still hover over it when he's feeling especially sad. He carefully redirects the conversation every time Marco mentions him during their weekly skype calls.

He meets Connie and Sasha. Or Sasha and Connie. It doesn't matter. They are symbiotic, really, and he thinks he's never seen them apart from each other. It's still unclear if they are going out or not, but maybe, having a relationship like that is better than romantic love.

Maybe he's bitter.

He makes friends with Ymir and Krista, an unlikely couple. He likes Ymir, even though they fight a lot. She's honest, rude and crude and straightforward. She calls Jean a "useless bisexual" too often and says fuck far too much. Krista, on the other hand, is sweet and caring, helpful, angelic. Although it happens, when it's late, when she's tired, that she shows a glimpse of a darker side of herself, cold and unforgiving, and Jean thinks it makes her seem more human. He doesn't mind.

He doesn't try relationships because he knows he can't, and rarely hooks up. It's hard to when you expect in your bed the following morning, a body with brown skin, broad shoulders and eyes the color of the ocean.

But still, college is good.

Eren loves his freedom.

Not everything's glamorous but he revels in it. He's not bound anywhere, he's not bound by anyone. He picks up odd jobs to provide for food, gas and the occasional clothes. He buys a disposable phone in every country he goes to, calls his parents once a week (he promised), sends a short text to Armin and Mikasa every two days, then dumps it when he leaves.

He travels all over Europe, first. He takes pictures of everything thinking that he'll show them to Jean when he comes back. He swims in new seas, surfs on the other side of the ocean. He'll have so much to tell him, and maybe he can convince him to come with him for a few days.

In Italy, a girl called Hitch lets him live with her for a couple of weeks. She's an amazing actress. She can sweet-talk her way out of pretty much any situation. In exchange, he does all kind of errands for her. Groceries, bringing back a DVD, playing the irritated boyfriend, you name it.

In Germany, Annie Leonhardt, a mixed-martial arts fighter, gets him out of trouble. By herself she beats three guys. Eren has never been so grateful. He works as a janitor in her dojo and she teaches him in exchange.

He thinks, with a pinch in his heart, that he's never been so happy than in the past six months even with the bittersweet memory of Jean's snarky remarks and subtle smiles in his mind.

* * *

Jean passes the first year and moves in with Ymir and Krista. They've found an apartment with three bedrooms and thought about him. It makes him feel a bit happy. Not like he'll ever admit it.

Marco comes visit once every month, and Jean cannot have enough of teasing Ymir and him about their matching olive skin and freckles. Until they start speaking fast Spanish sending him amused glance. It's suddenly far less funny.

Six months have passed since his twentieth birthday when he realizes.

He's on his bed, going through his emails. Ymir is snooping through his things like she always does. He's not even offended anymore. He glares at her by habit more than anything.

He doesn't hear any moving around for a moment and looks up, wondering what stopped Ymir in her quest to find embarrassing things about him. She's holding a picture. Eren and he are on it. They had taken it a few weeks after starting dating. He had just been trying to take a selfie, and Eren had jumped in, smacking a kiss on his cheek and Jean had laughed.

It's a fond memory.

"Who's that?" Ymir asks.

"His name's Eren," Jean says, and it doesn't make his heart clench in his chest.

"That does not answer my question," she says, knowingly and annoyingly.

"We went out together for a bit."

"A bit?"

"One year and a half."

"That's not a bit, Jean." Ymir points out. He ignores her. "What happened?"

"We broke up. He left." He doesn't hurt, but he doesn't want to talk about it. This part of his life is private. Ymir must understand, for once, because she doesn't pressure him.

"Where is he, now?" She settles for, instead.

Jean snorts. "Hell if I know."

He doesn't have feelings for Eren anymore. No love, no hate, nothing but the comfortable melancholy of past memories.

* * *

For Eren, it happens one week after he's turned twenty.

He's been in China for a couple months, now. He had been very lost at first, but he'd quickly picked up enough Chinese to at least ask his way around. With a bit of English thrown into the mix, he usually could ask most of what he needed.

Shanghai's streets are bustling with people, dirty but lively. Pollution is heavy in the air, and the sounds of construction are loud around him.

He wouldn't say he loves Shanghai – too messy, too dirty, too noisy – but he has a particular fondness for it. The same one you get for this friend who's a walking disaster. The one who never does their homework, has a terrible sleep schedule and always seem to get themselves into terrible situations. The one who gets you so irritated but you can't help having affection for them. That's the feeling, right there.

One thing he loves to do however, is try to capture in pictures how alive Shanghai is.

He's in the bus when an old Chinese lady asks the reason he takes photos. He only understands the word why and pictures, to be honest, but it's enough to get the gist of the question. He's about to say for a friend, but it hits him that he hasn't thought of Jean for weeks while taking pictures.

He's grown a scar over the wound in his heart.

* * *

Eren meets Levi when he's twenty-one.

He's struggling to find his way around Seoul on his paper map, trying to fight against the wind. He has the address of the hotel written on a piece of paper stuck to the map.

A Korean man stops in front of him. He's short, and even his delicate features can't soften his hard stare. For a moment, Eren is sure he is going to die.

But Levi, he learns the man's name a bit later, is nice. A bit awkward and standoffish, but helpful and surprisingly gentle. He invites Eren to stay in his own apartment, because he has a spare room. He curses a lot in Korean trying to find his words in English, and it makes Eren smile, amused. Levi glares at him for it, but doesn't say anything.

He accepts, and he doesn't regret it. Levi is not very talkative and a bit cold, but he cares in his own strange way. Eren finds leftovers when he comes back late from whatever odd job he's currently working. Sometimes he finds sunflowers in his room. The first time, he had been surprised. How had Levi known they were his favorites flowers? But he had told him two nights before, while they were having dinner together. He makes lunch to thank him.

After some time, Levi tells him that one of his workers at the garage left.

And that's how Eren ends up gladly taking the place.

* * *

He is arms deep in a car when Levi calls him. "당신을 위해 고객," he says. He only speaks Korean with Eren when the customer is foreign.

"이름?" He asks. His Korean is still shaky and lacking vocabulary. Levi shrugs.

"그는 당신을 알고 말했다."

Eren frowns. He makes a short mental list of everyone he's met in the past six months he's been here.

None of them are standing in front of him.

The person there instead comes from three years old memories. His jaw is sharp, his cheekbones high and defined. His face has lost any trace of childhood softness. There's a provocative air in the way he stands, even with the hesitant look in his brown eyes. He's tall, taller than Eren, with lean, long legs.

Jean is standing in front him, smiling sheepishly at Eren when he sees him.

"What are you doing here?" He blurts out, because he doesn't know what else to say in his surprise.

Jean frowns, fidgeting. "That's not really how you greet someone you haven't seen in three years," he answers, grinning, but his tone has an edge of uncertainty.

Eren grimaces. "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that. It just... Escaped me, I guess."

Jean chuckles. It is low and warm. "At least, this part of you didn't change," he teases, with his snarky familiar grin, and Eren feels seventeen all over again.

"We should catch up," he offers, smiling at Jean.

"Sure."

"Just give me a minute, I gotta let Levi know I'm leaving."

Jean nods.

Once he's out of view, he lets out a deep breath.

He's twenty-two and his first love just appeared in front of him, looking infuriatingly good in his jeans and white t-shirt.

* * *

In two weeks, Eren drags Jean everywhere. There are so many things he wants to show him. He feels like the six months Jean will spend in Korea for an exchange are not enough.

He presents him to all his friends, and laughs when they call him 'white boy'. It makes Jean scowls a bit, but they are easy-going and welcoming, and alcohol helps everyone. He has to drag the blond back to his own apartment, and they both end up sprawled inelegantly over his bed. It reminds them of when they were teenagers. Some things never change.

He makes fun of Jean because he can't hold chopsticks. He receives a scowl and a lot of grumpy muttering in exchange. He shows him the trick of the rubber band at the end of the chopsticks. It works, until Jean can't take it anymore and asks for a fork, ignoring Eren's smirk.

They drive to the beach, because it is not too far. The water is cold, and Jean refuses to jump in. Eren grabs him, throws over his shoulder, and dumps both of them in the sea. Jean curses Eren, curses the cold water, curses everything. They both come back still wet and shivering, and Levi makes soup while grumbling about them being idiots in Korean, then repeats it in English. He has to make his point clear.

And later, he calls his childhood friends. He scolds Armin, because he is the one who told Jean where to find him. But he looks at Jean, curled up on the sofa, softly snoring, and he can't quite keep a fond smile off his face. He doesn't have to tell them how glad he is. He doesn't have to thank them – because they know, they always know – but he does anyway, and he receives warm encouragements in exchange.

He realizes that maybe, he is falling in love again.

* * *

Jean, twenty-two, is absolutely sure he is over teenage Eren.

But this new Eren, the one with broad shoulders, a strong jaw, and long hair in a ponytail, is another story.

He is more mature, less angry, parts of it lost to his travels, with more smiles... Happier. He remembers the distant look Eren used to give the sea, the nights he spent looking at atlases, following the shoreline with his finger.

The look in his eyes is wilder now, a bit more feral, untamed. Less like the caged animal he used to look like and more like the confident feline he has grown into. As if the hunger in Eren to just _leave_ had been quenched. It makes something in Jean unclench. He thinks he'd never totally stopped wondering if Eren was happy wherever he was.

Two weeks after their reunion, Jean can't quite take his eyes off him.

When Eren laughs and Jean watches as his ocean eyes twinkle, as vivid as they've always been, and he can't stop himself. He kisses him, short and fast, and his chuckles quiet down instantly. Eren's gaze has always been intense, and he fidgets under it.

"Sorry, I- I shouldn't have done that," Jean stutters.

Eren blinks. Then rolls his eyes. "God, you suck," he sighs. He grabs Jean by the collar, just like when they were seventeen, and kisses him full on the mouth.

Jean can feel his smile against his mouth, Eren's laugh still ringing in his ears, and there's a warmth in his stomach that feels like the beginning of love.

* * *

 **Korean translation: "A customer for you."**  
 **"Name?"**  
 **"He says he knows you."**

 **basically they fall in love and they are gross together and levi catches them making out on his couch a lot  
and then jean has to go back to france to finish his degree so he does, and they probably have a lot of skype sex, and after that they do whatever**


End file.
